Dusk has fallen, and now it’s just starting to penetrate the canopy of the forest. The trees seem to be dancing to the music of the evening breeze and the gentle rustle of leafs compliment the overall atmosphere. The songs of birds have been totally replaced by an orchestra of crickets and other insects, and I seem to be their sole audience. My eyes peer into the gloom trying to make out what lies ahead, without much success. Soon I realize that I have to let my other senses take over in order continue on. I tread onto what seems to be a sea of moss that covers a large portion of the forest floor, forming a thick green carpet. Each of my steps leaves a green depression, which quickly fill up and erase all evidence of my passing . The soft texture of this carpet invites me to discard my shoes and I do so without much of a second thought. The green sea quickly engulfs my feet and I indulge on the velvety texture that brushes them. Reluctantly, I leave my carpet of moss and make an unsuccessful attempt to find my shoes. I venture onto a thin trail that is suffocated with undergrowth and slowly, start making my way down it. I do not seem to feel any discomfort due to the lack of shoes on the contrary the feeling of the soft moist earth under my feet is an unforgettable experience. The stars are just only starting to peer through the intricate patchwork of leafs and light patches of the forest floor. Fireflies dance like fairies and ignite tiny patches of light, which randomly appears and then suddenly disappears. I stop for a moment, captivated by this dance’s beauty, and then I realize that I have made little progress since I came onto the path. My attention shifts back too my walk and I continue on. The aroma of pine peers into my nostrils and attempts to hypnotize me. Its spell is abruptly broken by the unmistakable sound of flowing water. I get lured to a spot where the tall giants of the forest have parted to make way for a small stream. The reflection caused my the moon’s light causes its surface to emit a queer silver glow which causes the trunks of nearby trees to look like foreboding dark phantoms. Even in this light, I am able to make out the array of smooth pebbles that litter the stream’s bed. Without hesitation I step into the inviting stream. Even though the freezing water bites at my unprotected feet, I am compelled to stay as long as my feet can endure. Finally, I am forced to leave the water and rub the numbness out of my feet. It is a while before I can manage to walk properly. Unable to depart from its beauty, I start following the stream as it threads its way past obstacles that lie in its path. The pace of the water changes to resemble that of a galloping horse. The sound is deafening yet welcome as it gives company to my solitude. From this point onward I begin to realize that something seems unnatural as the constant chirping of crickets, which has accompanied me throughout my walk, has ceased all together. Even the songs of frogs that were present farther upstream are totally absent here. I continue walking on and then I suddenly encounter a vast clearing, which is cluttered with the trunks of felled trees. I squint at the contrast. I am appalled at the almost irreversible destruction that man’s progress has caused. The giants that had withstood the ages could not defend against chainsaws and bulldozers. With their bodies carried away, only their trunks remain as a reminder of their existence. Its almost dawn and the sun’s rays are beginning to appear over the horizon. I am just beginning to see the magnitude of desolation on the land that I look onto. In the distance I hear the sound of chainsaws starting followed by a thunderous crash that shakes the very ground I stand on. Another giant has fallen. It is too late.